


The History Books Almost Forgot

by lynlikesthings



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 05:30:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynlikesthings/pseuds/lynlikesthings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He paints them, the nine of them. Who they are, he doesn't know, but he does know he knows them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The History Books Almost Forgot

Woken up by dreams, Ryan gets up and paints; another painting of a group of boys, a group of nine boys. This time it’s an ancient place, the exact era somehow unknown to the painter. Friends, Ryan thinks without warning. Why the fuck do I feel like I know these boys. Why am I always painting them. Finally the sun rises, and so does a decision. Ryan puts two paintings in a bag, the one he just painted, and an older one, set it a more recent time. Shouldering the bag, Ryan makes his way to the history museum. 

On his walk there, thoughts fly fast. The paintings are always the same nine boys, sometimes he paints just one of them, sometimes a couple. Most of the time, it’s just eight of them, the ninth hidden beyond the view of the painting. “Why the fuck am I going to the fucking history museum. They can’t possibly know what the fuck is wrong with me. Why the fuck do I think these are historical. Just my fucked up brain. Nothing more.” Despite these thoughts, Ryan walks on, unable to stop. 

Soon enough he arrives, and starts wandering around. History has always been interesting to him, but why study people’s past faults when your own glare at you all the time? Finally Ryan enters a room, and something clicks. Something feels almost right. Almost. The French Revolution, right. Ryan pulls out his more modern painting, and looks at it. No, this isn’t right. It’s almost right. But not right. Overcome with sudden thoughts, Ryan sits on the floor, the painting in his lap.  
“What’s wrong?” A voice says. Ryan looks up, and loses his breath.  
“O Captain, my captain. Apollo himself, come to ask what is wrong” Ryan replies without a thought.  
“My name is Peter, I’m a far cry from dear Apollo. What’s that in your lap?” Peter asks, as he sits on the bench next to Ryan.  
“Just a painting, I came here to try to figure out what the fuck I was painting.” Ryan says passing over the painting. Peter looks at it for a moment, and looks up.  
“Paris, 1832, right before the June Rebellion.”  
“How do you know that?”  
“I think…I think I was there. And…so were you…” Peter says slowly.  
“I thought they felt familiar. It sounds so crazy, but if you feel the same way, I can’t be insane, can I?” Ryan responds.  
“Hey, what’s your name? I forgot to ask” Peter asks suddenly.  
“My name’s Ryan. I prefer to go by R though”  
“R. Oh my god, Grantaire, it’s you…” Peter whispers, tears coming to his eyes. Ryan shudders, that name, it feels more right than Ryan ever has.  
“Enjolras” The name comes to Peter’s lips easily. “Oh Apollo, you found me. I didn’t know I was really lost until now. But fuck, I don’t really understand any of this. Parts are missing. Important parts.”  
“We found each other. I don’t really understand either. Do you have more paintings?” Peter/Enjolras asks.  
“At home. It’s all I paint outside of class. Are you busy?”  
“It doesn’t matter, this feels important. Is right now okay?” Enjolras asks.  
“Of course. It’s not a far walk.” And so they head out together. The walk is silent, both trying to remember, trying to understand. Paris, 1832, rebellion, men fighting…Enjolras…

~.~.~  
A short walk later, they enter R’s apartment. Art is everywhere, nowhere close to organized. Enjolras sits on the couch, as Grantaire pulls out various paintings and sketches, leaving only the portraits of what must be Enjolras hidden. Those paintings Grantaire felt could wait for later. It’s not a great first impression to show someone you just met (Again, Grantaire thinks. This is not their first meeting) portraits of them portrayed as godlike. They sit together, and look at them all, thinking, remembering. No words need to be spoken, not yet. They sit quietly for some time before Grantaire finally says something.

“So we were fighting, and we died. We all died. All 9 of us.”  
“Les Amis de l’ABC…If we are here, if we remember, what about the rest of them? Do you think they’re out there? Are they looking for us?” Enjolras asks.  
“I don’t know. But these older paintings, the greek ones…I can’t remember anything. I mean, I know I’m Grantaire, I remember that all, but these I just don’t…”  
“I don’t either, but we will. Just give it time. For now, let’s find the others” With that, they talk more freely about it all, and make plans to find the others. Ryan, for the first time in his life, feels right. Not complete, not yet, but right.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic ever. It's going to start off a series of one shots that aren't that connected, but will be a story eventually I hope. Peter is Enjolras, Ryan is Grantaire. Any feedback is welcome. They are a bit OOC but that's because they are reincarnated, so they can't be the exact same people due to enivronmental influences... It can also me found on my tumblr http://lynlikesthings.tumblr.com/post/44478979050/the-history-books-almost-forgot


End file.
